


long time coming

by ofsinnersandsaints



Series: Kastle Smut Week 2019 [4]
Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Elevator Sex, F/M, Kastle Smut Week, Rough Sex, Wall Sex, frank 'i just killed a bunch of people to save you and now i want to fuck you' castle, karen 'we just saved each other and you're wearing the punisher skull please fuck me' page, kastle - Freeform, ksw: thirsty thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:31:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofsinnersandsaints/pseuds/ofsinnersandsaints
Summary: Frank gets a call from Micro that someone has taken hostages at a gala - and when he hears Karen is one of them he runs to save her. After a bit of fighting and killing he gets her to safety; only for her to turn around and save him.Immediately, with adrenaline and desire coursing through their veins, they reach for each other in the elevator. Something which has been a long time coming finally comes to fruition against the wall with Karen's legs wrapped around Frank.





	long time coming

Frank got the call from Micro before the cops even knew what was going, his alerts and computers pinging him the minute the hotel’s silent alarms went off.

“A hostage situation?” Frank repeated and was already reaching for the lock box under his bed where he kept his Punisher gear. Micro wouldn’t have called unless he was needed. “How the hell is someone keeping a hotel hostage?”

“Not someone,” Micro was saying, the clacking of his keyboard an echo on the other end of the line. “There’s about twenty armed gunmen in the hotel’s main ballroom, a few more in the lower employee levels. They’ve shut down the elevators and-oh shit.”

Frank froze as he slid his Bluetooth earpiece into place. “What? Micro. Micro, what is it?”

“I’m going to regret telling you this,” he started and then took a deep breath as if he was preparing for a punch. “Karen’s there. She’s one of the hostages.”

“What the fuck,” Frank all but yelled, slipping his phone into his vest, and grabbed two guns to fit into his holsters. “Tell me everything you know, I’m taking my bike so use your loud voice.”

The ride took six excruciating minutes; it would have been longer if Frank had followed any rules of the road, but he wasn’t about to stop for anything. Semis and pedestrians be damned, they’d get of the way if they didn’t want to be hit.

During the ride Micro explained the ballroom had been hosting a benefit for the district attorney, someone whom a few people had speculated was on the take. That would explain Karen’s presence, but not the armed gunmen.

The best they could figure: it was for ransom, but the police were closing in and pretty soon the kidnappers wouldn’t be able to get out with bloodshed.

And it sure as fuck wouldn’t be Karen’s blood.

“Where is she?” Frank demanded as he parked his bike and swung off it, heading to the one entrance Micro thought he could get through without much trouble.

“Sub-basement two. Looks like it’s a laundry room? They have the mayor, the district attorney, and a couple of others along with Karen.”

“Let me know if there’s any bogeys coming my way.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” Micro assured him and the silence told Frank his partner had muted himself which was a blessing. It was incredibly difficult to concentrate while Micro muttered to himself and typed a million words a minute.

The floor was in fact a laundry room, and Frank blessed the planner of this heist for picking this particular spot because the washer and dryers were running, giving him plenty of sound cover which allowed him to get close to the group of people huddled in a circle in the middle of the floor.

Karen was in red.

Her hair was falling out of its updo, and her dress was pure sin with the kind of plunging neckline that gave a man, even one about to fight for his life, plenty of dirty ideas.

Raising his gun he prepared himself to shoot in case he was discovered, but the men with guns were too busy with their hostages. There were four of them, an easy enough number but he’d rather not attack so close to civilians.

So close to Karen.

Moving away, Frank paced out the distance and when he was about twenty feet away he found the nearest running machine and opened it. He waited until the clothes had settled in the dryer and then slammed the door shut as loud as possible and then ducked around the corner.

“What was that?” one of the men asked.

“One of the maids?” another queried. “I thought we cleared the floor.”

“Go check it out,” the first one said and Frank noted he was the one who sounded in charge and would try to find him later. “Both of you.”

Frank prepared himself for two people, intending to keep it quick and quiet for now. Pulling two knives from the holsters on his legs he held them loosely in his grip, balanced his weight on the balls of feet, and listened carefully for the sounds of footsteps coming closer.

“Was this dryer running earlier?”

“How the fuck would I know? Maybe it just stopped.”

“We heard a door shut. Someone’s her-“ the word cut off as Frank darted from his hiding spot, knife slashing against the man’s throat. He threw a punch before the blood even started flowing, keeping the second gunmen from shouting out or shooting.

Frank used the rifle slinging on their chest and used the butt of it to break the man’s jaw, then buried the knife in his ribs. The punctured lung would keep from crying out as Frank killed him.

The thought occurred to him that he could have left them decapacitated, but the instinct had been to kill and it was too late to change it now.

Whatever. Two down, two to go.

Karen had watched the two men go off towards the laundry machines, investigating a mysterious sound that she knew belongs to Frank.

She didn’t know how he was here, how he’d known, but there was no doubt in her mind Frank had come for her.

Well, she corrected herself ruefully as she tugged at the zip-ties keeping her hands bound behind her back, maybe not for her specifically, but people were in danger so Frank had come to help.

Matt might be here too, but if it had been him the lights would be off to give himself the advantage.

“There’s only two of them,” the councilman sitting next to her pointed out excitedly. “They can’t shoot all of us. We should charge them and them and take their guns.”

“With our arms and legs bound?” Karen asked incredulously. “Help is on the way. The best way to stay alive is to stay here.”

“You’re an expert on hostages?” he snapped back but kept his voice low so the two remaining people wouldn’t here them.

Technically, Karen thought she was an expert on being a hostage. How many times was it now that she’d been held against her will? And did she count the times Frank had, for real or for show, grabbed her?

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she finally answered. “I don’t want to get killed because you’re a dumbass.”

He looked so offended Karen thought he would have clutched his pearls if he’d had any pearls and could move his hands.

She was shifting on the hard concrete floor, trying to find a more comfortable position, when she felt someone move behind her. The hostages had been put in the middle of the room but there were washing machines and dryers everywhere, along with carts and tables.

Enough places for a person to hide if they stealthy.

“Don’t turn around,” a voice whispered behind her, a voice she instantly recognized. Then Karen felt his callous hand run down her arm, then the pull of the zip-ties before the tension was suddenly gone. “Keep your hands behind your back until you get a chance to the free others,” he added and she felt the hilt of a knife pressed into her palm.

He was going back to the fight, she knew that as well as she knew her own name, but before he could leave she reached back and grabbed his hand. She wouldn’t stop him, wouldn’t even ask him to keep himself safe, but she did squeeze his hand once and hoped he understood.

Frank squeezed her hand back and then she felt the absence of him.

Karen watched the two men, one of whom was obviously in charge, and the other who kept quietly arguing. He didn’t like something about what they were doing but was scolded into silence by his boss.

There was a loud crashing sound, too intentional for Karen to believe it was anything but another trap meant to lure another guy away.

The underling moved to check it out but the other man stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Hold up, where is Carl and Bobby?”

They both looked in the direction their buddies had gone but had never returned from. “Shit. There’s someone here with us.”

“Cop?” the man asked, his voice a little shaky.

_Oh boy, you wish._

The one in charge cocked his gun. “Whoever it is, they’re going to regret fucking with us.”

Karen scooted to her right and took out the knife and began freeing people, putting a finger to her mouth to encourage them to be quiet and then nodding behind them where the stairs were. As the two men argued about what to do, and Frank continued to make ever more threatening noises from the machines, Karen managed to get everyone free.

“What the-FUCK! The hostages are gone.”

One man began running towards the door which was closing shut behind the last person but the one who stayed came for her.

Because she was the last one left, he grabbed her and pulled her towards him, but Karen fought back.

When he wrapped his hand around her arm she fisted her hand and spun on her left foot, putting as much movement and force into the punch as she could. The sound of bones crunching was satisfying but was immediately replaced by the pain in her hand.

Then she was on the ground, the force of the hostage taker’s fist knocking her to the concrete.

“Too much fucking trouble,” he informed her as he raised his gun to her head.

Karen didn’t look away, met his gaze straight on so she could prove to this fucker that she wasn’t cowered by him.

Then the first sound of gunshots echoed through the room, and the man standing over her looked briefly stunned before his knees gave out. That’s when Karen saw the tiny splotch of red on his forehead, a little bit of blood tricking down his broken nose.

The gunshots repeated again and again; Karen counted three more before Frank came into view, standing next to her as he finished the clip into the abdomen of the man who had hurt her.

“Motherfucker,” Frank bit out, dropping the gun on the ground. He bent at the knees so he was closer to her level, his fingers moving her face. “He hit you.”

“He’s dead and I’m okay,” she assured him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he clipped out and Karen saw the difference in him now. Frank was human; he’d get angry and hurt and sometimes overinvested. The Punisher was cold heat, searing and unmistakable, and that’s what she saw when she looked at him now.

It didn’t scare her, just the opposite. For the first time in almost an hour she felt safe.

He twitched his head, then nodded. “Thanks.”

“Who are you talking to?” she asked as she took him in. He was remarkably unhurt considering the people he’d just put down and she had a gut reaction to the image of the white skull painted on his chest. She hadn’t seen it since the night he’d stood on the rooftop to help Matt.

“Micro,” he answered, grabbing her elbow and helping her get up. “He got the elevators working again. Let’s go.”

“What about the other gunmen?” Karen asked as she let him drag her along, she’d counted at least fifteen in the main room during the initial attack but she imagined there was more.

“I’ll take care of them once you’re safe and out of the way.”

“Out of the way?” she asked, incredulous.

His grip on her arm was tight but she didn’t say anything. “I won’t be able to do what needs to be done if I’m worried about you getting yourself in more trouble.”

She was about to argue but stopped when she saw the pile of purses, wallets, and phone. “Wait.”

“Really?” he asked when she tried to pull out of his grip. “What is so important in there you can’t get it later? I know you didn’t bring you cannon to a formal event.”

She was originally going to bring it, however her gun hadn’t fit into the tiny purse which had irritated her, but she wasn’t about to walk through a hotel full of guns without some kind of protection. “Frank.”

He let go of her with a frustrated growl that absolutely did not get her hot. Bending down she moved the items until she saw her black clutch and checked to make sure everything was still in it.

“You good? Okay, let’s go. Micro, do you know where everyone is? Shit, okay. Where’s a good place to stash-“ his eyes darted to her as he swore. “Now’s not the time, asshole. Give me a place.”*

The elevator doors opened and Frank put his hand on her stomach, his long fingers brushing against the bare skin above the silk, and pushed her back into the small space. “Get to the rooftop, you can lock yourself in the bathrooms by the pool. The walls are concrete and stone so you’ll be safe until someone comes to get you.”

“Until someone-what the hell, Frank?” she asked as he reached into the elevator and pushed the button which would take her to the top of the building.

“Cops are in the lobby, taking care of the men up there, but a couple of them are running this way. You’ll be safer upstairs.”

And the doors shut before she could do anything.

Now that Karen was safe, Frank could focus on taking on the two guys running towards him, and he felt confident as he settled into a fighter’s stance. He knew he could handle two buffoons and barely break a sweat.

He was half way through beating them when two more guys showed and at that point he knew he was in trouble because these guys were armed with more than batons.

Frank did what he could against them, using the knife and the gun in quick succession to injure and kill until the odds were a little more fair. His lip was bleeding, he could feel the sharp pain of a cut on his cheek and there was blood on his hands from his knife burying itself in an artery, but he was good to go.

He was pummeling one guy, the gun having run out of bullets, when he heard the shocked screaming behind him. Frank turned to see the last man standing fall to the ground in convulsions, a gun dropping to the ground beside him.

Looking up, he saw the elevator was open and Karen stood in the doorway, a taser in her hand looking fierce and gorgeous and everything he never knew he’d wanted.

_He wanted._

“The cops are on their way down there,” Micro announced in his ear before he could rip into Karen. “And you’re still wanted by them. I’d get in the elevator if I were you.”

“You came back,” Frank bit out as walked onto the elevator, the doors closing behind him as he scolded her, pissed she’d risked herself so recklessly. He pulled out the earpiece, not wanting Micro to hear what was about to happen.

“Of course I came back, you dick,” she yelled at him, attempting to push him and he let himself fall back a step. “Someone needs to protect you from yourself.”

“Why?” he asked and wondered if she could tell how still he was. He could feel his entire body tighten, ready to fight or fuck; knowing what he was about to do, and not giving one fuck if either of them regretted it later.

“Why? Because you’re suicidal,” she accused him, clearly as angry with him as he was with her. “And you’re my friend. I don’t let my friends put themselves in danger-“

Her words cut off when he put his hand around her neck, not enough to do damage or to hurt; instead he applied just enough pressure to get her attention. She froze but she didn’t step out of his grip, didn’t try to pull away or knee him.

Instead she just stared at him with those big blue eyes, her pupils so dilated he could barely see the color around the rim. He stepped forward and put his mouth close to her ear, to make sure she heard every word he spoke. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

He walked her back until she was pressed against the wall of the elevator.

When he stepped away from her she didn’t move, but he could feel her eyes on him as he pressed the button for the third floor. When the elevator was between the first and second he pulled the switch to stop it, just as Karen had done months before.

Frank turned to looked at her, and watched with fascination as her breasts rose and fell in short little breaths; her nipples hard points against the silk of her dress. “If you want to leave, I’ll restart this elevator and drop you off with the cops. But if you stay, I’m going to fuck you against that wall until you don’t remember anything else but the feel of me making you come.”

She inhaled on a sharp breath, her hands fumbling for the metal handrail, gripping it until her knuckles were white. But she didn’t look away, didn’t tell him to take her to the cops.

“Stay,” she said, her voice shaky but certain. “I want to stay.”

He walked towards her, _stalked_ towards hers, and felt every inch the predator as he stared at the pulse beating in her neck.

When he was standing in front of her he put his hand low on her neck once again; there was something incredibly erotic about the feel of her skin against the pads of his fingers, about a hold meant for violence and pain causing arousal and pleasure.

He knew it fucking turned him on.

“If you say stop, I stop,” he informed her, his words clipped as he thought about all the things he wanted to do with her. “But unless you say otherwise, I’m going to assume that panting means you’re enjoying this.”

Karen attempted a little nod, the gesture hampered slightly by his hand. “Yes,” she swallowed, and he could feel the movement against his palm. “For God’s sake, kiss me.”

She read his fucking mind. He leaned forward with every intention of kissing her senseless except when he kissed her, he wasn’t Frank, or not just Frank.

He’d come to the hotel as the Punisher and he was still the Punisher, even here in this elevator with her dressed like sin. When he pressed his lips to hers it was dark and rough kiss that ravaged as much as anything, the hand around her neck sliding down to cover her breast.

She whimpered against his mouth, her body arching into his touch. “You like that?” he asked, pleasure sparking through him at how damn sensitive she was.

“Yes.”

He played with her tits while he kissed her, learning the taste of her lips and tongue as he did so. She was so damn responsive, and he wanted to catalog every little moan of pleasure and gasp of excitement that she made. He wanted everything from her and teased himself with imaging what she’d sound like when she came.

Frank wanted to hear his name when she screamed.

“I’m going to put my mouth on you now,” he informed her, bending a little to press his tongue to the silk over her breast, loving the way it immediately molded to the hard little tip. He circled the areole with his tongue, avoiding the nipple for long seconds to build the desperation he could feel in her body.

When she snapped, he wanted it to be the biggest thing she ever felt.

Karen wouldn’t consider herself a prude by any standard; she liked sex, and there was a time or two she would have said she’d had great sex, but one thing she knew with absolute certainty was that nothing she’d had experienced before would prepare her for what was about to happen.

She was about to be well and truly fucked by Frank Castle.

He pushed his leg between hers and she nearly sobbed at the little bit friction she could get as she moved against him, his jeans rough against her pussy, through her soaking wet panties.

“That’s right,” he murmured against her skin, his left hand still playing with her nipple while he kissed and nipped at the skin over her sternum. “You going to get yourself off fucking my leg? Going to come before I even get my hands on you?”

She nearly came right then, with his words and hands and leg driving her past the point of reason.

Then he bit her nipple, a sharp shock of pain and her thighs gripped his tightly, a shock of pleasure running through her at the sudden sensation.

“Frank,” she could hear herself say, but couldn’t string any more words together after that because his tongue was running over her, first one tit than the other. All the while she rolled her hips against his leg, trying to steal everything she could get away with.

“Do you want me, Karen?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately, her neck arching and the temptation must have been too great because he left her breasts to bite the curve of it. She gripped his Kevlar vest, her entire body curving to get as much contact with him as possible. “Yes, I want you.”

He moved his leg and she nearly cursed him but before she got the chance he was reaching beneath the skirt of her dress. “Fucking Christ, Karen. You soaked through your panties.”

Karen looked down and could see the wet spot on his dark jeans, clear evidence of her arousal.

“That’s what you do to me,” she told him, her voice steady despite the rapid pulse of heart against her ribs.

His fingers touched her leg and she thought he was finally going to touch her but instead he took hold of her underwear and pulled hard, the sound of the fabric ripping was lost in her gasp, but it wasn’t fear.

It was pleasure.

His hand ran up her thigh, the slit in her dress gave him easy access to the heat of her, where she was already wet and wanting. Karen reached out and grabbed his Kevlar vest, wishing she could touch any part of him.

Frank didn’t bother with foreplay, with seduction, and drove one finger hard into pussy.

She cried out, the sound of her pleasure filling the little room. Then she lifted one leg to his hip, her knee hooking onto one of the empty holsters at his hip. “More,” she begged.

Frank took her hands and pressed them against the wall of the elevator above her head and the rough handling of her was easily as much of a turn on as his hand around her throat had been. She’d consider the implications of that later, when she had more than one brain cell functioning.

“You get what I give you,” he growled but added another finger, stretching her, and unable to help herself she immediately began riding them.

“You like this,” he asked as he moved his hand to meet her hips. She could hear how turned on she was by the wet sounds they made together. “Hard and rough?”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I like this,” she said and she was so close to coming she was almost desperate for it. Her wrists strained against the cuffs of his hands, but he didn’t release her and she didn’t ask to be let go. She liked knowing that a man who killed, who took orders from no one, would let go in an instant if she said so. “I like it hard and rough.”

“You like getting fucked by the Punisher?”

She exploded against him then, around him, her ecstasy a sharp sound in the elevator.

The entire world went blurry for an instant and then the only thing she could see was Frank’s face in front of her, his breathing coming out in hard gasps.

He didn’t let up as she came down from the high and continued to finger fuck her. “Say it, Karen.”

“Say what?” she asked and felt as if he had fucked every thought out of her brain, wished she could give him the same pleasure he was giving her.

“Say you like being fucked by the Punisher. Beg me to fuck you. Here and now.”

“Please,” she begged, but there was nothing soft and gentle about the words. Her need was sharp and jagged. “Please, fuck me.”

Frank let go of her hands and she immediately grabbed onto his vest as he fumbled with the buckle of his jeans. He must have left his house in a hurry, or he’d have more gear than just his holsters and bullet proof vest. She briefly thanked God for that because she couldn’t bear to have anything more between them than there already was.

He grabbed her the hem of her dress and threw it over the handrail, and while Karen was more than ready for him to bury himself in her, she wanted to touch him at least once. She looked down at his erection and she saw how incredibly thick he was and she was grateful he’d fucked her with two fingers, it would make it that much easier to take him in.

“Fucking shit Christ,” he swore as her fingers wrapped around his cock. She kept her grip loose on him as she moved her hand up and down his length, enjoying every little grunt and curse which managed to make it out of his mouth. She brushed her thumb over the head of his erection and he jerked in her hand, and she let herself picture what that sensation would feel like in her cunt.

“Enough,” he ground out, pulling her hand away and putting it on the handrail. “Now, Karen. I have to be inside you now.”

Karen nodded and spread her legs, ready to take every inch of him.

Frank wished to God Karen was naked.

He wanted to tear the red dress off her body so he could see her tits, her stomach, her long legs wrapped around his waist. But she’d have to walk out of the elevator when he was done with her and she needed something to wear.

Next time, he promised himself, next time he’d rip the clothes off her body.

When she spread herself for him he nearly went down on his knees in gratitude, and the idea of eating her out was enough to make his mouth water, but he was pumped full of adrenaline and desire so he added ‘make Karen scream with my tongue running along her slit’ to his list of things to do later.

Instead, he hooked his hands beneath her knees to pick her up off the ground. She reached down with her free hand to grip the metal handrail and braced herself on it as Frank lined up the edge of his cock with her dripping wet pussy.

“Last chance to turn back.”

Karen shook her head, adjusting herself so she was balanced between him and the wall, and then pulled his head forward so she could kiss him.

It was a kiss as wild as he felt, as wet as she was, and he enjoyed pushing his tongue into her mouth, taking immediate control as he slid into her with one long, hard thrust.

She cried out, the sound loud and music to his ears.

He was about to ask if she was okay, there was enough of Frank hiding behind the Punisher skull to worry about her, but before he could get the chance she was kissing him again. “I wish I could touch you.”

He’d already felt those long fingers around his dick but that wasn’t the same as her hands on his chest, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he pounded into her. He imagined feeling her breasts against his bare chest and nearly came right then.

But he touched what he could of her, keeping himself still inside her, running his hands up her legs and stopping when he felt something odd on her leg. The side which didn’t have a slit designed to temp and torture every straight man in a ten mile radius hid something beneath the rich red fabric.

When he looked down he saw, strapped to her pale white thigh, a dark holster encasing a four inch knife.

“Karen?”

“I couldn’t fit my gun in my purse,” she reminded him even as she moved her lower body as if trying to pull more of him into her, trying to recreate the friction she must have gotten when she’d straddled his leg.

“So you strapped a knife to your leg?”

“I also have a taser. Had a taser,” she corrected. “That’s how I took down the guy who had his gun on you.”

He ran his fingers over the leather straps, imagined the little red creases it would leave on her skin, and it reminded him of ropes around wrists, handcuffs attached to bedposts. “Red silk and a knife holster,” he murmured. “I think this might the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

And with nothing more to say, he pulled out and drove back into her, completely sheathing himself in one thrust.

Frank pressed his mouth to the base of her neck, sucking hard on her skin, using his teeth and tongue to soothe and scrape. Nothing about him was gentle or kind but she was matching his rhythm every step of the way.

Her hands, now free to do what they’d like, were tugging at the short strands of his hair. If she were trying to pull him away he’d have stopped, but she was breathing her encouragements as he fucked her against the wall.

He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer but he didn’t want to stop, couldn’t imagine ever doing anything but sliding in and out of Karen’s hot, wet cunt while she begged him to give her more.

“You feel so fucking good around my cock, I want to feel you come around it.”

He figured it was difficult for her to fuck him back, precariously balanced as she was on his legs, but with her legs around his waist she managed to raise herself up a little and those short little strokes were enough for him to feel that pressure low on his back.

Shit he was close.

Frank wrapped one arm around her waist, and with the other hand he reached between them and found her clit, slick with her juices. “Fuck!” she yelled, bucking against him when he flicked his finger across the hard nub.

“How do you want it, Karen? How do I get you to come so hard you scream yourself hoarse?” he covered her nipple with his mouth, unable to keep himself from the temptation of her. He kept his strokes short and hard, her breathing going erratic at the rhythm. “Tell me, Karen. Talk to me dirty.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders, her entire body a single taunt line of muscle and skin. “Hard.”

“That was hardly dirty,” he taunted.

“Fuck me hard,” she told him. “Hard and fast on my clit. I’m so close. I’ve never been fucked like this. You’re the only one who can make me feel like this; The Punisher,” she said, then added, “Frank.”

He lost all control, his fingers almost bruising everywhere they touched, his cock bottoming out inside her. She gripped the back of his neck, her blunt nails digging into the skin there and he imagined what she’d to do his back once he got her on a mattress.

When she came it was hard and fast around his cock and he could hear the echo of her shout, pleasure and wonder and sensation in every sound. He knew that’s what she felt because that’s what he felt as he came buried inside her.

Karen inanely thought of that scene from Harry Potter where the dumb wizard teacher accidentally made Harry’s arm boneless.

That’s what she felt like as Frank pulled out of her, and she could feel the combined liquid of their arousal drip down her leg, completely boneless.

“Jesus,” she said as rested her head against the wall, fingers gripping the handrails because she didn’t think she could hold herself up. “I’m not going to be able to walk for a week.”

“You have to walk out of here, Karen. The cops are going to want to talk to you.”

“Fuck that,” she said with a little smile, too exhausted to do anything more than that. “I’m not going to be able to form sentences for another hour.”

His smile was a little crooked and completely endearing, especially considering he’d just fucked her senseless feet away from cops and dead bodies.

_Jesus_, she repeated to herself. There might be something wrong with her.

“Spread your legs,” Frank was saying and she did so automatically, her eyes closed until she felt something smooth on her legs. She looked down and saw Frank had pulled a piece of fabric from somewhere and was cleaning her up.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and stuffed at the fabric into his pocket; at some point he’d put himself together, buckles and holsters in place. Then he reached down and there was something oddly intimate about him picking up her discarded underwear and putting them in his pocket.

“I’m going to talk the cops with no underwear,” she realized, shaking her head at the thought.

“Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes, thinking she could take a nap right then and there. There was doubt on his face and Karen kept her exasperation to herself; the stupid man, she’d screamed his name and begged him take her and he was still uncertain.

Reaching out she pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his middle and kept him close so she could kiss him. No rush this time, no desperation, just warm affection.

He kissed her back, hesitant at first, and then she felt the confidence return to him and there was Frank. Her Frank.

“Push the button,” she told him softly, resting her head on the vest. “I have to let the cops know I’m okay.”

“What will you tell them?” he asked, running a hand down her hair which was now loose and falling around her shoulders.

Karen shrugged. “What I always tell them, the Punisher rescued me. Again.”

Frank pulled back a few inches and pushed the release button so the elevator started moving again. He kissed her again quickly, and then let her go. She watched as he studied the ceiling and then jumped, pushing aside the loose paneling.

She laughed, she couldn’t help it, and when he looked at her with confusion she held up her hands. “I feel like we’ve been here before.”

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Frank agreed with a laughed. “I’ll see you later, Karen.”

“See you later, Frank.”

Karen watched as he pulled himself up and out of the elevator, just in the nick of time as the doors opened to the lobby where a handful of cops had their guns trained on her. She immediately put up her hands. “I’m unarmed.”

Out of the crowd someone stepped forward, and she instantly recognized Detective Mahoney, his hands on his hips as he looked at her. She hoped that she looked recently kidnapped and not recently fucked, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. “Detective.”

“Shit, I should have known it was you.” Karen picked up her purse off the elevator floor and walked towards the semi-friendly cop. “The other hostages said there was a blonde woman in their group that disappeared after the Punisher showed up. Don’t suppose you know where he is now, do you?”

“Nope.”

Detective Brett watched her. “You’ve got a bruise on your neck.”

There was an accusation in the statement, and Karen let only the hint of a smile reveal itself. “Yeah? It’s been a crazy night, I couldn’t even tell you when I got it.”

“Uh-huh.” He shifted on his feet and Karen wondered if he’d try and push the issue but eventually he sighed. “Come with me, I need you to give me a statement. Maybe you can explain to me why that elevator’s camera suddenly went out about fifteen minutes ago.”

Karen tripped over her own feet, “Camera?”

The looked he gave her was amused and sardonic, “Yeah. Know anything about that?”

“No,” but the lie wasn’t as convincing that time. Shit, fucking fuck. She hadn’t even thought about there being a camera in the elevator but of course there was. Micro must have remotely disabled, but how much had seen before he’d done that? She’d either have to kill him or send him flowers.

“Yeah, the camera was working for a while, we went back a bit to see if any of the hostage takers used it, and then it opened on the laundry floor and went out.”

“Weird.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Sit down, tell me what you know.”

Karen perched on the edge of the chair and told Brett the majority of what happened; after all there weren’t a lot of things she needed to leave out. She told him that she got into the elevator after the Punisher freed them and the elevator stopped working for some time.

He had questions, and he certainly didn’t believe everything she said, but he didn’t push which she was grateful for.

“All right, you can home now.” He shut his book and stood up. “I don’t suppose I need to warn you about being safe, seems you’ve got yourself an avenging angel watching over you.”

Karen shook her head and waved goodbye to the detective, flagging a cab down and in less than fifteen minutes she was home.

As she went up the stairs she imaged a bed, she imaged a very full glass of wine, and she imagined a very hot bath.

She unlocked her apartment and stepped inside, but she instantly knew she wasn’t alone. Looking up she saw the silhouette of someone standing front of her window, and she’d encountered Frank in the dark often enough to recognize him.

“Did they give you any problems?”

“No,” she told him, dropping her purse on the table and slipping out of her heels. “Have you been here no long?”

“No, I just got here.” Karen nodded and stood in her living room, just a few feet away from Frank who still wore his Punisher Kevlar. “I can go, if you want me to.”

She shook her head. “Tell me why you’re here first.”

He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t want that to be the way our first time went.”

Karen smiled and felt a well of affection rise up in her chest as she walked towards him. “You’ve thought about our first time?”

“Haven’t you?”

She considered the question. “No, not a specific first time. I thought about us having sex, but God, Frank, I couldn’t have imagined anything like that.”

He scratched the back of his head and if there were lights on she thought she would have seen him blush. “Yeah. That was something else.”

“Why did you come, Frank?”

“Because I’m not done with you,” he admitted and he sounded like he was vaguely disgruntled by the fact. “I pulled out and I immediately wanted to have you again.”

His hands reached out to toy with the thin strap of her dress. “There were so many things I wanted to do with you that can’t be done in an elevator.”

“Tell me,” she whispered.

He traced the deep v of her dress, his fingers curling around both sides so his fingernails brushed against the curve of her breasts.

“I’m better at doing than talking,” he said, and ripped her dress down the middle.

**Author's Note:**

> *“You good? Okay, let’s go. Micro, do you know where everyone is?"  
“Yeah, they're headed your way. I don't know how many yet, but at least two."  
“Shit, okay. Where’s a good place to stash-"  
“Your girlfriend," Micro filled in, his voice more than a little amused.  
“Now’s not the time, asshole. Give me a place.”


End file.
